


Food Blogger

by queen-reekoo (siffy)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Chubby, Chubby Akira, Chubby Akira Kurusu, Clueless Akira, Food Blogger Akechi, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Persona 5 Spoilers, Stuffing, Weight Gain, i guess feeder akechi, its canon that Akechi is a food blogger, so he takes Akira out on dumb dates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siffy/pseuds/queen-reekoo
Summary: In his spare time, Goro Akechi enjoyed to go to different restaurants and write reviews for the different foods and the atmosphere that could be found at these establishments. And yet once he met Akira Kurusu, he couldn't help but indulging the other's love for good food he could never afford. It was the perfect chance to get him on his side, and grow close to him to find out more about the Phantom Thieves...but things never go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My friend had told me that Akechi was a food blogger, and I adored it. Especially with the knowledge that Akira always seemed to enjoy food in my playthrough, I kinda went with the idea. Has some spoilers with Goro Akechi's intentions in Persona 5.

Maybe it was the sense of normalcy that had him coming back to his blog week after week. Something to get his mind off of the constant stresses of his job and his work under the agency. Or even it was just a ploy, a facade to make him feel as if he were a human being with no knowledge of the metaverse, but instead just an interest in food. The people loved him, and some even took his words to heart when he would post an article about a review of a new restaurant in town, or something interesting to eat.

Goro Akechi liked to believe he lived modestly, excluding his excursions to get new material for his blog. Living in a small apartment by himself, going to school, going to work as a detective...he never lived beyond his means, but he did enjoy the occasional excess of his food. It was just a simple splurge, a way to entertain himself and reward himself for his hard work getting the media on his side and of his duties as a detective.

People loved to hear anything he said. They ate him up like candy, he liked to joke. He’d post a picture of a delicious dish, and his thoughts and opinions, and be flooded with positive responses. All of his published blog posts would become popular, and he had a great deal of followers. He was unsure why exactly people seemed to love it, but it filled him with a pleasant warmth in his chest, to be loved by so many for what he enjoyed as well. 

It wasn’t something he did incredibly often, but found himself doing now more and more. At first it was just a treat, a little something nice for him to do when he needed to get away...eat something delicious and write about it. There was no stress involved, no worries or expectations. The people loved him no matter what he did...they were in the palm of his hand. And he thrived off of that attention. 

But now he had attention from another source. Originally it had just been a plan to get Akira Kurusu to trust him more. He remembered those distrusting glances and skeptical looks upon his face, and wanted to change that, in more ways than one. He needed him on his side, and surely it was this hard because of his words against the phantom thieves, but now...there was something about him that entranced him more than his detective work and his food blogging. 

Maybe it grabbed him when he went to Leblanc for coffee, and was served by the boy. With soft spoken words and a gentle smile upon his face, Akechi was smitten. Seeing him out of his school clothes and in that apron, working so delicately to create a perfect cup of coffee, his meticulous work with a furrowed brow and the tip of his tongue between his teeth...it sent him haywire. His heart would beat out of his chest whenever Akira spoke to him, feeling as if his heart would sing.

It was no surprise when the other agreed to come with him. Frankly it was the promise of free food that grabbed him, most likely, and Akechi couldn’t really blame him. The boy lived off of coffee and curry. He was most likely craving real food, and Akechi was happy to supply it.

The chance to speak to him more personally, without any prying eyes was too much for him to pass up, and Akechi adored the chance to get closer to him, in more ways than one. This would be so easy to make the other too fall to his knees before him and be malleable to his wishes, but also...never had someone interested him so.

A member of the Phantom Thieves under the guise of his friend? Maybe more? The mere thought of it sent thrills down his spine. That familiar sense of power, sense of control...he seemed to grow from it, keep his head high from it. Akira walked around so confidently, believing that no one knew who he was, and what he did in his spare time. With that stupid, adorable look on his face, with eyes as wide as a cat…

Why did it make his stomach twist into such strange knots?

He had to find out. Make him his, and make him his to control. Everything in his life had to fall into place and fit into his perfect working machine. That boy would melt to his needs soon enough, and become what he desired. It was what he managed to make everyone do, with a simple smile and a soothing voice. The people loved him for his work on the Phantom Thieves, the readers loved his work on the Food Blog, and Akira…?

Well...Akira was another piece to his puzzle that wouldn’t get in his way. 

Maybe he could even have fun with it. Combine his two favorite things in one night; work for his blog and an audience in Kurusu.

And such were his intentions as he smiled innocently to Akira as they sat across from each other, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“I hope you brought your appetite.”

That laugh that came out of Akira’s throat sent strange emotions buzzing through Akechi’s head, causing him to sit up just a bit straighter in interesting. It soon became obvious that yes, he indeed did come from his offering to pay for all of his food, especially when Akira responded.

“I hope you don’t regret having to pay for my food.” the boy snickered gently, brushing his hair behind his ear with a flick of his thing fingers. “I’m growing sick and tired of living off of curry and coffee, you know? Living in a cafe gets bland after awhile.”

“I can only imagine.” Akechi laughed, taking a sip of his drink. The water swished in his mouth and he swallowed quickly. He needed something to focus himself, stabilize himself. The first time he could sit down privately with Kurusu...this was going to be interesting, surely. But so long as he’d feed him, he had him in the palm of his hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ll treat you well, Kurusu

He nodded once he put the drink down, waving the waitress over to signal they were ready, much to Akira’s surprise. With a wink from Akechi, to soothe the boy’s confusion over not even getting a menu at first, he spoke easily to the waitress. He spoke in a hushed tone to her, explaining with his hands, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see his companion lean forward a bit against the table, straining to hear.

And with a laugh of punctuation from Akechi, the waitress left to fill the order, Akira left with a confused expression. Smirking teasingly, the ace detective snickered just a bit.

“You see, I write articles about the quality of food at a lot of restaurants. It's a pastime I enjoy, if I must admit. I run a blog, and my work is something people enjoy to read, it seems. Ah, I can’t tell if they actually think my writing is up to snuff, or if its merely from my popularity on the television.” Akechi laughed innocently, smiling wider.

Oh, he knew why. He wanted to see if Akira knew why...but he just couldn’t read that boy. All he got was a small hum and a nod from him, moving to take his own drink and sip it.

“It’s one of the reasons I asked you to come. I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. I did want to invite you to dinner with me, but part of the reason was I assumed you’d want any leftover I had. I usually can’t finish it all. I don’t have that big of an appetite, and it’s a bit of a waste.”

He saw Akira’s face light up, and he knew he had him, the boy smiling slightly. Clearly it was the mention of free, delicious food that had him. Any lack of trust seemed to be put on the backburner, for he saw his shoulders relax and his back become less ramrod straight. His hands rested in his lap, and he leaned back comfortably with a weak nod.

“So you needed me to act as cleanup?” Akira remarked, humor dripping from his tone and the way his thin lips curled up in a smile. “And here I thought you just wanted to go on a date and get to know my winning personality.”

Akechi’s own mouth split into a toothy grin, and he nodded. “Who said that that was the only reason? Maybe you’re right. I do enjoy good company and good conversation, and you’ve been known to provide both. I’ve wanted this chance to speak to you, Kurusu, ever since that time at the TV station during my guest appearance. You interest me, and I’d love to chat with you in more ways than one. We barely have enough time when we meet at the station, don’t you think?”

The boy blushed slightly, or at least, Akechi thought he saw that dusting of red on soft cheeks. He noted how his eyes flickered down, and he could see his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. Waiting patiently for him to come back with a retort, all he got was a soft squeak and a nod from him.

Was this the confident boy from the Phantom Thieves? What had gotten into him? Had he said the wrong thing? No...never. That wasn’t like him at all. Maybe he was just overwhelmed. Yes, that must be. Just as he thought he wouldn’t get a verbal answer from the boy, he was met with a surprise.

“Well, I certainly hope I won’t disappoint you.”

The response had Akechi smiling again, taking another sip of his drink.

“I know you won’t, Kurusu. You never do, after all.”

Akira seemed taken aback by his words, his brows coming together and lips parting slightly, as if he wished to say something. But he instead frowned, before nodding again, his gaze now distant and clouded. Clearly he had taken the words to heart and was mulling over them, to Akechi’s dear amusement.

They enjoyed a comfortable, basic conversation between them. Small talk, such as the weather, the state of the news, and of their school and their assignments. Gradually Akechi had gotten Akira to calm down, much to his amusement and glee. Now that the other had calmed down, it would be rather easy to get him to stay for the meal. Or even more, if he tried hard enough.

The food came, and he noted how Akira’s attention was immediately grabbed, the boy’s eyes widened when a server had to carry it all upon a tray. It was delivered before them, spread out across the table they were at, and the detective thanked them once it was all placed and spread out before them.

“What...you ordered all of this?” Akira gaped, blinking back up at him, and Akechi let out a sweet laugh. It was five dishes, each something completely different, and it ranged from a light appetizer to a heavier rice platter with a beautiful steak atop. He had picked out the restaurant’s specialties, for this restaurant had been a highly requested stop for him to go to, and he was happy to oblige if it would make them happy. Besides, Akira certainly looked happy.

“I did. This was all recommended to me after all, and I’d like to try and review all of it. Wouldn’t you agree, its better to get two birds with one stone?” Akechi smirked, before taking out his phone and snapping a few pictures of the meals for later. Once that was done he slipped it back into his pocket, humming. “I hate wasting food. Whatever I don’t finish is all yours, and there’s enough for both of us. More than that I think too, don’t you?” he smiled.

All Akira could do was nod dumbly, folding his hands as he let the man before him do his work. Akechi could hear his stomach growling from across the way, and he smiled to himself as he pulled the first one closer. He swore he could even see the other salivating, watching him with a curious gaze.

“You don’t get to eat like this often, do you, Kurusu?” Akechi questioned, blinking back at him. Akira snapped out of his stupor, before smiling a bit and nodding.

“I cook for myself, or sometimes Sojiro cooks for me. My diet’s usually something along the lines of curry and coffee. I’m surprised my digestive system isn’t shot just yet.” he snickered, rubbing at his jaw with an almost nervous hand. “Or else I get take out. Go get ramen, or burgers. I don’t...eat anything fancy like this. The last time I ate like this was when I went with my friends to this buffet. I ate so much they almost had to roll me out of there.”

Akechi laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back down at the dish before him. He picked up his chopsticks to finally sample the first meal. It was something involving thick noodles and vegetables, and it all melted on his tongue. But it was certainly heavy, and he could tell just after a few bites of it, chewing carefully on the pasta. As to not grow too full and soil his palette and his taste of other meals, he moved the plate closer to Akira, who happily accepted it.

It seemed he was happy just to have another bite to eat finally, picking up his own chopsticks and beginning to eat. Certainly did he bring his appetite, easily working his way through the plate of noodles as Akechi tasted and sampled the other dishes. He ate with a dainty hand, gently delivering each morsel to his mouth, his gaze flickering between his food and his companion

He paused to take out his small notebook, jotting down a few notes of each meal, writing with small, neat handwriting. The sounds of Akira eating served as a white noise, the boy.slurping and munching on eat bite. Lifting his gaze from his work, Akechi paused to watch Akira effortlessly polish the plate of noodles, all but shovelling it into his mouth.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had been hungry and hadn’t been able to enjoy food like this, from his pure vigor with eating. And once it was empty the boy took a deep breath and a sip of his drink, pushing it to the side.

“You certainly enjoyed it.” Akechi commented with a teasing smile, closing the book to keep it clean as he pushed the next one to Akira, having sampled a third of the plate of rice with fresh spices and fillings. “I don’t think I’ll have any leftovers this time. You were the right one to bring.”

“That was delicious.” Akira laughed breathlessly, pulling the next one over to himself without hesitation. “Ha...write that in your notes. That was good.” he snorted, motioning with his hand towards the book, causing Akechi to laugh happily once more.

“Noted.” Akechi winked, pointing the pen at him before writing down another line in his book.

This process continued on for the rest of their meals. Akechi ate what he could to get a good tasting for it, and write down whatever he could in his notes. Whenever he had enough, he would push it towards Akira, who always accepted it without any sort of hesitation. It was a lot of food, but it was all delicious, giving Akechi plenty to write about for his blog.

As for Akira? He seemed to be happy to getting something new, something delicious to eat, wolfing anything that was handed to him down. Akechi had to wonder where he was putting it all, but then again, this was the boy who had won the Big Bang Burger Challenge. This must’ve been nothing for him.

Or so he thought, when he finally had to lean back and catch his breath, a hand on his stomach as the fifth and final plate was placed before him. Akira looked almost drunk, his cheeks flushed red and his mouth open to breathe heavily. Akechi saw one of his hands move to his abdomen to rub slowly, as if to soothe the full belly he had.

Akira slowly nursed at his glass of water, the ice now melted in the drink they had been there long enough. And despite how obviously full he was, he still looked at the plate before him, as if debating on challenging that as well. 

Akechi couldn’t blame him for being full, but frankly, he was surprised he had even eaten that much in the first. No, he would’ve expected a complaint by now, but instead, he had eaten everything pushed in front of him. There wasn’t anything left over from the four other plates, except this fifth one that had half the food leftover in it.

Akechi himself was full, but not to near bursting as Akira looked. The poor boy couldn’t even sit up straight, trying to shift his weight around to get more comfortable. But there was no way to get comfortable this way, he believed, and allowed Akira the moment to breathe. It gave him the chance to finish writing up his notes, now working on the overall flavors and menu he had sampled, as well as the atmosphere of the dining and the service of the waiters. This would give him enough to work with for a few articles, at least.

“You think you can keep going?” Akechi finally spoke up, Akira blindly blinking towards him with a tiny little huff. “I don’t like to bring home leftovers, you know. Unless of course...you wanted to bring it home yourself?”

What surprised him was when Akira seemed to take that as a challenge, the boy’s brow furrowed as he forced himself to sit up, bringing the plate of sushi closer to him. There was a few large pieces left, Akechi having eaten half of it when he found that one to be his favorite. The boy refused to leave any left over--maybe he just didn’t have anywhere to put it? Or maybe he didn’t like the idea of faltering at a challenge?

Either way, Akira took a few gulps of air, and steeled himself, stuffing the last pieces of the roll into his mouth. Chewing seemed even painful, but he swallowed roughly, and with that difficult task taken care of, he allowed himself to fall back against the booth with a few pants of air.

“Impressive.” Akechi whistled, tucking the little book in his inner breast pocket. He leaned forward to fold his hands neatly, glancing over the carnage. Somehow, Akira had finished everything, not even leaving a scrap to the mice. “It looks like I was indeed right in bringing you with me, then. I’ll have to consider your company when I go to another restaurant next week.”

Akira merely grunted at that, as if he was too out of it to verbalize to him.

Akechi smiled, finishing off his drink and placing it on one of the empty plates. “We’ll head out in a few minutes, if that’s alright with you?”

Akira slowly nodded at that, closing his eyes, a hand still rubbing at his stomach. And when Akechi leaned forward a bit more, he noted that it certainly seemed distended from just how much he had consumed. The leader of the Phantom Thieves could put a lot away when his pride was on the line.

Or was it simply the boy was truly hungry and was too much of a glutton to turn down free, expensive food? That was the more interesting question.

The waitress came and went, taking the finished plates and making small talk with Akechi, asking how everything was. And when he spoke that everything was wonderful, she seemed thrilled, rushing off to get the check. He waited, not saying much to Akira, who was too full to even see straight, let alone hold up a conversation.

Akechi couldn’t exactly say why, but something about his prone, vulnerable figure across from him sent thrills down his spine. He was too out of it to think and be aware of his surroundings, and he had done it to himself. What a shame the foolish leader was. The detective had easily manipulated him into eating until he couldn’t move, and Akira had done nothing about it. Was he that weak willed to let it happen?

He couldn't’ let this knowledge go to waste. Getting on his good side by feeding him, and taking advantage of his weakened state...he knew now the way to learn more about the Phantom Thieves and about the interesting Akira Kurusu in ways that his detective work wouldn’t let him.

Maybe he could make a habit out of this...it wouldn’t be too hard, if he had reacted like this to some free food.

“Come now, Kurusu. They could use the table for others. We’ve been here for far too long.”

Akechi had already slipped out of the booth, his arms at his side as he waited patiently for Akira. When he saw those eyelids flutter open, as if he had slipped into a stupor, he felt his own heart ache briefly at the sleepy, soft look upon his face. Very slowly, the boy wriggled out of the booth and stood, wincing as he did so. He struggled to keep himself level, slouching forward just a bit, as if under his own weight.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Kurusu?”

“I’m fine. Full.” Akira finally responded verbally, groaning as he stood beside Akechi, his cheeks still dusted red. He slowly moved his hands into his pockets, trying to compose himself and look at least a little bit better. But he still seemed completely wiped, suddenly exhausted. “Fine, though...it was good. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. I enjoyed your company quite a bit.” Akechi hummed softly, beginning to walk out alongside him, making sure to go slow as to not make the other boy sick. “I’d love it if you came with me another time, actually.”

Akira blinked at that, blindly tilting his head towards him to listen to him better.

“I like to go every week, or maybe more. It gives me something to do. I go to new restaurants, and I always aim to try a few dishes each time and review them. Things from nice restaurants to little diners and dives...people seem to love them and enjoy them, so I continue with it.” he chuckled gently, tilting his head back at him. “Would you care to accompany me on these treks, Kurusu?”

There was a moment of silence from the other, moving slowly as they exited the restaurant. He seemed to relish in the cold night air, his breath puffing out as he slowly closed his eyes to breathe out slowly. Akechi at first believed he wouldn’t get an answer, the other boy growing quiet, still.

And finally, he nodded, Akira humming slightly.

“I can’t turn down free food after all.” he turned his head towards him, smiling warmly. And yet again, Akechi’s heart swelled in his ribcage.

“Then it’s settled then. I’ll text you the details of my next outing. Alright?” Akechi tried to not sound too enthusiastic, especially when Akira nodded once more. “Good. Now...will you be alright taking the train home? I wouldn’t want you to get sick on me.”

Akira shrugged slightly. “I’ll be fine. Walking a little bit should help, anyways.” he glanced down at the time on his phone, clicking his tongue. “I better get going. I need to...feed my cat. I’ll see you next week, then. Have a good night.”

“Likewise, Kurusu.”

They parted ways, one slowly maneuvering his overfed body towards the station, the other walking in a brisk pace towards the location of his small apartment.

Akechi tried to not look too eager, tried to shake the spring in his step out of his system. But he simply couldn’t help it. It was far too easy to get Akira in his grasp and with them now having a scheduled meet up, it would be terribly easy to get what he wanted and further his goals.

Maybe he could even have a little bit of fun with it, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi mulls over his plans with a dozen donuts. Akira happily complies, despite the change occurring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments! It means a lot.

“This is what, the third time this week?”

“Maybe I enjoy to spoil my good company.”

Akechi had on an innocent look upon his face, causing Akira to groan and roll his eyes in response. Snickering, Akechi winked devilishly at Akira, who wrinkled his nose right back at him. They walked together side by side, strolling down the streets of Shibuya--Akira still felt uncomfortably full from their lunch, and wanted to try walking off a bit of the meal. So he had suggested a walk, and Akechi had agreed.

“You’ve got a strange idea of good company, then.” Akira responded breathlessly, resting a hand on his stomach for a moment as they walked, his free hand hooked into one of his pockets. They moved slowly down the road, Akira following behind without a word or a question. Where were they going, anyways? Wherever Akechi decided, of course. This route was planned, and he led the way, moving at a slow enough pace for Akira to not strain himself.

At the click of his tongue, Akechi purred, glancing back at Akira, who moved a few steps faster to stand beside him once more, having fallen behind. “Ah...mm...no. I do enjoy being beside you. You do give me something to do, and an excuse to go out eating again.”

Their outings had grown more and more common. Originally it was once a week, but that lasted only briefly, before Akechi grew more confident in his requests, and began to send him more and more inquiries over when he was free to come see him. Soon, two days a week, and now, according to Akira’s note, it had been three times a week.

It was so easy to get the other to come along. The mention of free food, and he was usually on his way by the time the message was sent. Anything related to dining had his attention...and he couldn’t tell if the boy was a natural glutton, or if he…

No. He couldn’t possibly be enjoying his company in return. No one ever did, especially not someone like Akira Kurusu…

But it was strange, having someone to see so frequently. He came willingly too, he never had to manipulate him or twist his arm. It gave Akechi something to do, instead of going from school to the police department to home, and let the cycle repeat each day. This time, he had somewhere to be, and people to see.

Akira did provide good company, surprisingly. The man was the bane of his existence, and he reminded himself frequently that he was only doing this to get more information on how to destroy the Phantom Thieves. But even when topics of discussion turned away from that heinous group of criminals, they never ran out of things to talk about.

School, work (Akira juggled at least three jobs on top of his school career and his unspoken Phantom Thieves career...what a strange, busy boy, that still made time for him), the city, the news...everything would flow from one to the other, and he would grow distracted from his current goal.

Akira was just so easy to talk to, it was remarkable. Usually he had to prep his words and his intentions so far in advance, and everything was so meticulously calculated...from his discussions with television personalities to how he’d deliver his quotes and news at meetings at the police department, or even when meeting with fans, everything was planned. Akira was...all made up on the spot, whatever came off of his chest. It was so odd, so strange to him.

No, he still remembered what he was doing. That he was taking advantage of the other’s kindness, to find out dirt to take it out on his little band of criminals…

Hearing him talk about his friends made his stomach roil with hatred. How successful he was, in his ambitions, in his work, in his endeavors with his friends...he wanted to vomit at it all. That jealousy burned and ate at him--it just wasn’t fair! Akira Kurusu was a damn criminal living in some crummy attic, yet he had it all. He had a group of close people to support him, a place where he was wanted…

Why did he himself not deserve any of that? Why was he denied love and warmth for so long? Akira’s life was destroyed--success in college was such a faraway idea, nevermind getting a job with that sort of record, and his social status was ruined--so why was he happier than he was? Akechi had fame, fortune, things Akira didn’t have...but Akira had other people, and he wanted to take that away from him.

Starting with the Phantom Thieves was the best solution, and thus, he was brought back to his original plan. Sure, he enjoyed himself in a bit more of an indulgent way with having something more personal to attend to after his commitments, but the glee he felt in his body over the control and inevitable destruction of Akira Kurusu made him almost giddy.

Such power and such control...for once, he was the one at the helm of the ship, instead of being stepped on and spat on. He could go drunk from this.

That day, he had realized that the effects of his frequent outings were starting to become apparent. Slowly, Akira was beginning to melt under him. It was subtle at first, and he had barely noticed it, but after working so long for his success, he couldn’t let little details slip past him. And when he noticed it, he had realized he had found a way to completely take him over and consume him with his own rage, and manipulate him into his making.

It was obvious as they walked, Akira’s head lowered and a blush dusting his cheeks, from either what he had said to flatter him orfrom the strain of eating too much, he just couldn’t tell. But it didn’t really matter. Their multiple times a week excursions were making their way onto the boy’s once slim frame.

The weight wasn’t notable until only recently. Akira was already thin, and his clothes could usually cover it up well enough--they always hung out after school, where they both could change out of their school clothes into something more comfortable. But now, those casual outfits were clinging much more noticeably to Akira’s frame.

That jacket he began to wear quite often wouldn’t close, Akechi noted. Even before they ate, he let it hang open, instead of closing it. But that only seemed to make things worse, with the light t-shirt hugging his abdomen tightly, and the fabric bunching up right above where his stomach began to round out. It was subtle, but even when he wasn’t stuffed to the gills, Akira’s stomach pooched out slightly in a round little dome. No, he wasn’t fat, not yet, but he had put on weight. 

All of it was centered in his stomach, still nothing too damaging to his figure. Surely with some better fitting clothes (a size up, perhaps?) he’d look fine, and nothing would be obvious. But here now, having eaten too much at the restaurant they attended, Akira was uncomfortable. He kept hooking at his belt, at his waistband, as if trying to push it down to stop smothering himself, and he kept tugging at his shirt when he grew self conscious that it would ride up. He looked even larger, so bloated and stuffed...Akechi wondered how much of that would stick to his ribs and not go down once he had digested his meal.

Akechi tried to not stare, but found himself drawn to it. Akira was grateful for the lull in conversation, it seemed, breathing heavily as he walked beside his partner, and trying to wake himself up a bit. He wasn’t even aware of anything around him--looking as if he were about to be put into a food coma if given the chance to lay down on the ground.

This was his doing, he knew right away. What else could cause such a radical change in the other’s physique but him? He knew this would happen eventually, with Akira’s sheer gusto in eating, but never expected it to happen this quickly. It...made sense, vaguely, in how much he was eating. But it was so damn easy to do it...just order too much, complain that he didn’t want to bring leftovers home or leave food on the plate, and Akira would happily oblige and eat it all. 

Really, if anyone was to blame, it was Akira for being so damn easy to manipulate and bait into doing what he wanted. Yes, that was right.

Akechi lifted his head a bit higher as he walked beside him, humming a little tune to himself. That was his doing. It was his power over Akira, now on display for everyone to see. At the rate they were going, Akira was going to grow fatter, and it would become even more prominent. His control over Akira was going to be known, and how better else than on his form, for everyone to see, and in such a way that he is blamed himself?

It was so easy.

Akechi turned his head back towards his friend, tilting his head towards him. “We’re almost there. Do you think you can keep up?”  
Akira’s gaze flickered towards him, his palm running down his stomach briefly before he composed himself, stuffing hands in his pockets and holding his head up again. It was evident that he was trying to hide him nursing his full tummy, to Akechi’s amusement.

“Of course I can.” the young man scoffed, adjusting his glasses with a delicate hand. “Where are we even going, anyways? You haven’t told me.”

A soft, purring chuckle was heard from Akechi, causing Akira to pout slightly over at him in frustration. He found his aggravation almost adorable, and he took a step closer to him as they walked. Only then did they finally stop to wait for the traffic light at a crossing, Akira standing next to him and looking at him expectantly.

“I wanted to try something different. After all, don’t you think you deserve dessert? There was this donut shop I wanted to sample…” Akechi clicked his tongue, waiting for his reaction. “I don’t just do nice restaurants, you know. Sometimes my readers prefer something different, something a bit more affordable that they can go to themselves. So I’ll head to cafes and tiny shops...and besides, you didn’t get anything sweet in those last meals. Think you can handle a little bit more?”

Akira didn’t say anything at first, licking his lips slowly, his gaze down. Hands still stuffed in his pockets, he shifted his weight, Akechi’s gaze watching him closely. The way he tried to move without aggravating his full stomach, how he tried to look casual and calm, and his slightly flustered cheeks, curly black hair a fluffy mess…

Why did he find him so endearing like this? Shit.

Surprisingly, the other didn’t back down from the idea of more food, a smile crossing his features. And with a dip of his head, he smiled just a bit. “That sounds like a good idea. A bit of a palate cleanser, is it called? There was so many salty foods at that last place, something a little sweeter sounds amazing right now.”

Akechi snapped out of his gaze, eyes flickering back up to his face, and he smiled delicately back at him. “Good. I knew you were the right one to bring along with me. Come, its just around this corner. Then we’ll head back to my apartment to eat them.”

Something about his words shocked Akira, a bit of that rosy color leaving his cheeks, and his back straightening out in surprise. “Y...You what?”

“I don’t think that would be a problem, would it? You’ve gone to your friend’s houses before, haven’t you? Come now, it’s not like I’m asking you to sleep over or live with me.” Akechi laughed. So he had taken the other off guard...what a pleasant feeling. “Besides, there’s no chairs in this establishment. And you look like you need to sit down, or take a nap. Or both.”

Akira didn’t answer, head lowered as he stared ahead, the offer clearly throwing him off his game. A hand was raised to run through his ruffled mess of curls, and he frowned, deeper this time. His eyes were cloudy, and distant, thick with his confused thoughts. 

Akechi, at first, was doubtful. Had he been pushing too hard, too fast? But surely, if he knew anything about what he had observed and read about friendship, this was the next logical step. Did he still hold a grudge against him for his nasty words about the Phantom Thieves on national television? 

All those thoughts vanished when Akira finally looked back at him and nodded, the two beginning to walk across the intersection once the light flickered. He didn’t say anything until they were safely across, humming softly and tilting his head back towards him. 

“Sure. I don’t think I mind. I don’t have anything else to do today.” Akira shrugged. 

Akechi couldn’t detect any lies nor mistrust from the other, and took this as a small victory. If he was now able to get the other to even come to his house...that could be quite useful in the future. Sure, it was a risk, where the other would now know where he lived, and could use that against him should his true intentions ever come to light...but it was a calculated risk with lovely rewards.

“Splendid.” Akechi smiled.

They continued to walk in silence for a few more moments, before Akechi suddenly stopped outside of a small shop. Akira slowly moved beside him, confusion etched on his face, before the detective motioned towards the entrance. 

“Here we are. I told you it was right around the corner.”

The walls facing outside were glass, showing colorful characters and bright colors, all based off of the topic of donuts and other sweets. Their mascot was a cat in a little police officer’s uniform, happily holding one of the signature treats in its overexaggerated paws, its eyes large and seeming to stare right through anyone who passed. It all looked far too bright and cutesy, but it still reeked of a new business, with everything so clean and new even from the outside looking in.

Akechi didn’t wait for Akira to comment or say a word, already pushing the door open and stepping inside. He heard the soft huff and the steps of Akira following him, and moved inside the building.

Even inside mimicked outside, with that little cat plastered on the walls and on the worker’s uniforms behind the counter. Pinks, yellows, blues, all soft colors were visible. It was smaller than it looked from the outside, with no chairs or tables present. Clearly it was meant to be a place where you picked up your food and left to eat it elsewhere. Faint music could be heard, just as cheery as the entire decor was.

It made Akechi want to vomit (he’d get all of his anger out in his review of this place) but that wasn’t the main focus for this visit. No, it was but a mere test to gauge how successful he had been with Akira. By now, he had him trained, where he didn’t even need to say a word but put food in front of him and he’d eat it. Would he continue that, even when stuffed so silly?

He was generous in having let him walk, giving him time to digest. How thoughtful and considerate of him.

Akechi put on that plastered smile he was so used to wearing, greeting the girl behind the counter sweetly. He listened to her memorized, company spiel over the quality of the food, the history of the place, and what the little shop wanted to do. Frankly, he didn’t care, but listened anyways, nodding and piping in with little words whenever he had the opportunity.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Akira leaning over to look at the donuts through the curved glass cases, Akechi making note of the ones his gaze lingered on. That was a good sign, then, if the sight of more food didn’t make him sick. Perfect.

As soon as she finished, Akechi placed his order, requesting a dozen of donuts. He leaned back, reading off a few that looked interesting enough (he had a sweet tooth himself) and the ones Akira looked interested in. The donuts were fat and fluffy, some dripping in frosting or others caked in powdered sugar. But they looked delicious.

“Thank you, thank you.” Akechi dipped his head in thanks, slipping her a few bills of yen and receiving the box of goodies. Even the box had some weight in his hands, and it was immediately handed off to Akira, who accepted it with a tiny noise. “Your turn to carry something.” he teased, snickering gently, causing Akira’s eyes to narrow playfully in response, a smirk upon his own lips.

Akira tilted the box towards him, peering in through the clear plastic panel on the top of the thin cardboard box, examining the goodies that were given to him. He clicked his tongue, before smiling again, and Akechi couldn’t tell if he was genuinely excited with trying the treats.

“You got so many.”

“It’s cheaper that way, Kurusu.” Akechi laughed, stuffing his wallet back in his pocket to prepare to leave. That was a good enough excuse for now. Really, he was curious to see how many the other would eat, either unknowingly or knowingly. How much had his gluttony grown?

He fixed his gloves, already moving towards the door, his companion following him, but the voice of the cashier behind the register caught his attention again.

He turned, tilting his head curiously when she waved him back over, a giddy, excited look upon her face. She bounced slightly when he obliged, Akira remaining close to the door as he stepped back over to her.

“Is there something wrong? I thought I had paid the right amount…” he feigned stupidity, able to recognize that look in her eyes. It was a flustered look with pure joy etched on her face, and he knew; she had finally realized who he was. And clearly a fan, from what he could tell, by her too wide smile and her leaning over the counter slightly.

“You! You’re Goro Akechi! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe, Goro Akechi is right here!” she giggled, making a motion to fan herself, bouncing a bit on her feet. “I’m like, your biggest fan! I love everything you do! I read all your blogs! I always watch every appearance on TV! I--”

She prattled on excitedly, barely letting him get a word in edgewise. He indulged her, allowing her to do as she pleased, for after all, he had to keep up with his appearances. Even if this was something he didn’t want to deal with right now (he had more pressing matters holding a big box of donuts), he still had to. If word spread that he had snapped at a fan...he had to look like a good mannered, sweet boy, who fought for justice in the streets as a detective prodigy.

Even if she just...didn’t shut up...he just had to grin and bear it, and look for a break in the conversation to back out and escape with Kurusu.

The sound of cardboard crinkling was heard, and Akechi blinked, glancing over his shoulder as the young girl was mid story. To his surprise and pure glee was Akira, having grown equally as impatient with the tantalizing temptation in his arms. The box was cracked open, and Akira had fished for one of the heavy donuts, holding it carefully in his free hand. He was sniffing it curiously, examining it, before taking a large chomp out of it. He could practically see his pleasure oozing out of him from how his eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Akechi snickered gently, catching Akira’s attention. The boy blinked, the donut in his mouth, before shrugging his shoulders at him desperately and motioning at him with the donut-holding hand, as if asking him to hurry up so they could leave. He looked notably flustered, however, watching them warily.

Akechi would have to ask him about that, later, but--

“--oh, oh! Can I take a selfie with you, Mr. Akechi? Oh, please! I promise it’ll be quick! I have to show everyone that I met you!”

Reluctantly Akechi’s attention was snapped away from Akira again, and the boy frowned briefly, before putting back on that fake smile. He cooed gently at her, before agreeing with a nod. This was a chance, at least...oblige with her and use it as a quick getaway in return.

“I suppose I can’t say no to a fan...I am in a bit of a rush, though, so just one picture, alright?” Akechi smiled sweetly, moving beside her as she quickly took out her phone. He got up closer to her, staying composed as he smiled into the lense, her face uncomfortably close to his. He could feel her breath and her warmth, and it made him sick.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Akechi! Oh, this is the best day of my life!”

“Not a problem! Happy to meet a fan.” Akechi laughed a bit as she dipped her head in his direction. Sure, he hated doing whatever these people wanted, but to see them thank him and shower him with affection and love...he simply couldn’t get enough of it. This was what he deserved, to have people falling at his feet in praise for him.

She waved, reluctantly moving back behind the counter, still watching them rather eagerly.

Once he was free, Akechi walked back to Akira’s side, noting how this time he was eating a different donut than a few minutes ago. This one was chocolate frosted, with crumbled cookies scattered a top of it. The boy lazily blinked back over at him, swallowing the last bite of the food with a soft pant.

“You done here?” he questioned, his brow furrowing, already moving towards the door. Clearly he was ready to go, and uncomfortable with having been standing there awkwardly waiting for him to finish speaking with that girl. With a fumbling hand he closed up the box of donuts, shifting its weight into his other arm now.

“I see you had grown impatient waiting for me.” Akechi snickered under his breath, patting his arm before inviting him to lead the way out. Akira was happy to comply, stepping back out into the busy streets of Shibuya. Once he was by his side, Akechi continued: “I didn’t expect you to start eating them before I even got out. I thought you said you were full?”

“I can’t wait for you all day.” Akira snorted, licking the sugar from his lips with a pleasant hum. “Besides, these are delicious.” He held the box easily, and Akechi could see he looked even fuller from the last time he had glanced down. The two donuts he had eaten atop of his previous meal made him look larger, heavier, and either he didn’t notice, or he didn’t care. Either way, that warm feeling of excitement swelled in his own stomach and settled in his chest.

“I was going to write a review on those, you know.” Akechi said innocently, beginning to walk again, Akira following immediately. “Until you ate two of them.”

Akira rolled his shoulders innocently. “There’s still ten left. Besides, I know you. You’re just going to take a bite then hand the rest to me.”

“How do you know?” Akechi challenge, and Akira laughed easily.

“I’ve been on enough of these dates with you to know how you eat, Akechi.”

Something in his chest fluttered at the mention of dates, and it was his turn to be caught off guard. His cheeks grew flushed, and he cursed internally when he heard that teasing little giggle from Akira.

So the other was catching on. But he wasn’t...doing anything about it, really. That could be interesting, then. He could use that to his advantage. If the other boy wasn’t ceasing his eating habits despite knowing what he was doing...did he enjoy this? Could certainly be, if he kept agreeing to going out, knowing what was ahead.

He’d have to play this smart, to keep the other on his side, and keep him eating. If eating was the way to get his friendship, then they’d do that. And when he glanced back over to see the boy already opening the box again to take out another donut as they walked, he realized that yes, indeed, this was the way.

“My apartment is just another block away.” Akechi hummed to Akira once he was already halfway through the donut. He turned his head, blinking past his glasses, stuffing another bite into his mouth. “We can stay there for a bit, if you’d like. Whatever you wanted to do. You do look tired, if you wanted to rest, or we can eat those in peace.”

Akira swallowed, before nodding. “That sounds like a plan. I’m not doing anything else.”

“Perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira heads back to Akechi's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Please enjoy. And thank you all for your lovely comments.

How Akechi had convinced Akira to go back to the apartment with him, he didn’t know. Was the boy that stupid and easy to convince? It certainly seemed that way, from how they had gotten this far to begin with...wherever he suggested, Akira followed without as much as a simple objection. Could it be from how he dangled food over his head? Even then, was the boy that much of a glutton to simply comply at the meek temptation?

But by handing him a box of donuts on top of an already full stomach, Akechi knew he had Akira wrapped around his finger. He swore he could’ve walked all the way around Shibuya, and Akira wouldn’t care. He seemed too enamored with the expensive treats to say no to him. One by one, each one was taken out of the box by his groping fingers, as he stuffed the fried dough in his mouth, chewing with a thoughtful expression.

He never thought it would be this easy, to snag his rival under his grip. Merely feed him, and he would comply to anything. The thought made him nearly intoxicated with power, and he felt a deep lust for control as they neared the apartment complex where he lived in.

Akira was too stupid to do a single thing. He came to every meal, every invitation, and ate whatever was given to him. If he was the so called leader of the Phantom Thieves, he should’ve been more careful, had more self control. Everything that was coming to him, he deserved it.

“Right this way.” Akechi hummed to Akira, who merely grunted behind him. 

The sound sent pervasive thoughts through him--could he not verbalize because his mouth was so stuffed with food? Had he eaten the entire box of donuts on the way here? Why did that send a strange bolt from his chest to his stomach, and make him bite his lip with a soft whimper? He was a disgusting, weak individual, allowing himself to grow fat like a damn hog. Akira was a glutton, and was paying for his weakness. And yet, he grew more excited when the other complied with his plans without much encouragement. It was as if that boy was natural at this.

He opened the door, holding it out for Akira, and allowed him to catch a glance at him. His eyes widened when he took a peek into the clear panel atop of the box of donuts--at least half of them were gone, he noted. When his gaze wandered up, he saw Akira quickly shoving the last few bites into his mouth.

The other looked even bigger since the walk from the donut shop. The boy was bloated, he could tell, especially from how he took his free hand not holding the box and adjusting the waistband of his pants once they finally stopped moving. Despite how full he had been, he had still eaten--it was startling, yet Akechi also found himself deeply amused.

Amused, enough, however, that a teasing thought arrived in his head. It would be cruel, sure, but after all, Akira deserved this one. He let himself get like this, and thus would have to suffer the consequences of his actions. Sure, it would be unnecessary, but it was oh so fun to torture him even more...it was so damn easy.

“Ah...I hope you don’t mind. But the elevator is broken.”

There was a moment of silence, Akira’s head lifting up from where he had been snooping at the donuts, as if debating which one he would pick next. The words seemed to sink in, the boy looking startled finally. He gaped, the box closing with a quiet crinkle of plastic and cardboard, and he hummed a bit.

“...broken?”

Akechi swore he saw his face grow a bit paler, no longer that flushed rosy color. His voice let out that tiny squeak as the word left his lips. Was he too fat to climb stairs? No, that wasn’t it. He wasn’t that overweight just yet. It was likely how full he was. Having that severe weight pressing down and dragging down on him, it was likely why he looked rather spooked. Wide eyed, a glint of distrust and misery slipped as he glanced hopefully at the elevator, and back to him.

Yet again, Akechi was proven that he had the lad wrapped around his pinky finger. He had been expecting him to question the lack of the sign on the visible elevator, and the validity of his words, but all he did was adjust his glasses and tuck the box of donuts under his arm with a quiet grunt. 

“Whatever. Let’s get going.”

He probably wanted to sit. His legs must’ve hurt, or maybe he was too full and aching. Walking clearly hadn’t helped his indigestion, Akechi noted, from the flushed cheeks and heavy breaths. So stuffed that breathing was becoming an issue...my, how the mighty Phantom Thief leader had fallen. He looked as bloated as a tick, and he wondered what would happen if he squeezed him--

“This way.” Akechi chirped, putting his sweet smile back on. His cheeks hurt from how much he had smiled that day--even if it was genuine, it was something he just wasn’t used to. Too wide, too many teeth, the eyes of a shark looking up a meal.

He moved, taking a few steps onto the staircase. After a moment he paused, craning his neck to try to see, his brow raising as he waited for Akira to follow. And sure enough, like a hesitant mutt, the boy was climbing up after him. His steps were heavy, lumbering, and just watching him was making him feel weighed down himself. The way he moved, as if to not cause pressure on his belly...yes, that's’ what he was doing. Waddling like a pregnant woman, with a hand resting on the upper part of the dome to keep everything settled and still, he followed after Akechi, considerably slower.

Akechi swore that he felt guilty. Truly, he did. He felt pity biting at his chest, that maybe he had pushed the other. No, it wasn’t just that he didn’t want to see the other throw up (he wasn’t a fan of such unpleasant images) but he truly felt bad that he was in pain. He had encouraged him and allowed him to do this, and the blame could fall onto his shoulders.

Maybe this was a bad idea. The other breathed even harder as they climbed the staircase, slowly rounding around the rails to climb the second set. Each huff was audible, his head lowered, his body moving slow. It wasn’t just the food that was dragging him down, however, Akechi realized.

Sure, he had noticed when they were walking, but it was even more obvious now as they climbed the stairs together. How when he lifted his leg his stomach would roll against his thigh, or the way that soft layer of fat under his chin would become visible when he looked down, or his thick arms squeezed in his jacket when he adjusted his hold on the box of donuts… From where Akechi was, he could view it all so simply. That weight was sticking to him, their meals causing him to grow soft and puffy.

It filled him with a strange warmth. Akira was so endearing like this. He was incredibly soft. With that fluffy head of curly hair, so unusual to see in Japan, he almost looked...cute. The sight was so different from the normal. Everything about Akira was just so gentle. The way his lashes curled as his eyes closed, his pink lips as he breathed, and as his eyes dropped lower to his round body--

“W-What floor is it on, Akechi?”

Akechi snapped, realizing he was staring, and that the other was now standing beside him. The boy’s exhales echoed off the stairwell, and Akechi stood up straighter. His fingers went through his hair to soothe himself down, giving Akira a chance to breathe. He didn’t really blame him--he was out of breath just looking at him.

A strange form of pity crawled up in his belly. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed him so far...his former arguments that he deserved this grew a bit duller, and he was now staring at his soft, pink face. The boy looked miserable, green behind the gills and too warm. Maybe this joke was a little bit cruel--

But that was the fun part. To see how big the other had gotten, wasn’t it? Ah. Akechi’s head was hurting now. He couldn’t decide what he wanted.

“You’re almost there. One more floor, alright?” Akechi finally spoke. He reached a hand out, and only hesitated a moment before patting him on the shoulder. The fabric of his clothes felt taut, and the flesh soft beneath his fingers. A jolt went down his arm, and he breathed in hard through his nose. It was soft now, despite still able to feel the hard muscle beneath...there was an undeniable layer of fat now. He yearned to touch him again suddenly, but pulled his hand back quickly as to not raise alarm.

“Let’s get going.” Akechi cooed, before turning sharply and jogging up the stairs easily. His cheeks were red, he realized, when he rubbed the warm skin, and he grit his teeth. Why was playing with Akira like a toy causing him to enjoy himself this much? What hold did he have on him now? Dammit.

He waited at the top of the stairwell, licking his lips. His hands went down to smooth his sweater vest and the shirt beneath it, chest rising and falling quickly. That pleasurable warmth was still sloshing in his blood, and he cursed under his breath. 

No, he realized now that that wasn’t pity he felt for the other. It was enjoyment. He had enjoyed to see his misery, for he had looked so pitiful. And that misery was a delicious thought. For it was his doing that he looked that way, from his wide body to his flustered expression...it was all him.

That pleasure turned to a strange lust for control over him, tilting his head as he watched the other lumber up the stairs after him. It was so delectably easy to fall into this trap for him. To watch as his power over him manifested in his being...these steps on the stairs were merely a test, to see how much had changed. Oh, the poor Phantom Thief...soon he’d be unable to even do his duty as a stealer of hearts at this rate. If they kept on this path of gorging, then…

“Here we are!” Akechi sang, opening the door to the main hallway once Akira joined him. The sounds of the boy panting echoed in his ears, and he shivered briefly. He gave him no time to catch his breath, already holding open the door. “Come. Let’s get going. You can rest on the couch until you feel better.”

A wordless nod from Akira, who readjusted the box of pastries yet again between his arm and his side.

The actual walk to the apartment was relatively short, probably to Akira’s release. It only took a few moments to unlock the door once he grabbed hold of his keys in his pocket. He held the door open for Akira, and then stepped inside.

“Make yourself at home.” 

The apartment was small, which was the norm in this residential area. Everything was clean and organized...it resembled a large room, with walls put up to divide it up into different compartments. A small kitchen was tucked into the corner, with a tiny table and new, clean appliances. The bedroom was behind the wall, with a soft bed neatly made and prepared. And in the other corner was a living space--one part had a desk, where papers and folders were neat and put away, pens and staplers and office supplies in their proper place on the table; the other part was a simple couch and a flat screen television facing it on the wall, with fluffy throw pillows and a folded blanket in the center.

The entire apartment reflected upon Akechi’s own life. Neat, tidy, almost to a fake degree. But it was his space, where he had complete control over what had happened. The room was set up to his fancy, and he could manipulate its appearance at will. Nothing here would suddenly go wrong, and now, he had welcomed Akira into that manifestation. Into a part of him.

His keys were dropped on a table near the front door, and he turned around in one smooth motion to look at Akira. A smirk crossed his features as he saw the boy looking around the apartment, sizing it up from where he stood in the doorway. Softly he hummed, tilting his head.

“Come on. I don’t bite.”

He smiled a bit too wide, showing his teeth.

Akira slowly nodded, stepping into the apartment. He still seemed flushed, still breathing a bit heavily, and he moved to deposit the box of half eaten donuts on the table. Now that he wasn’t holding onto it, he stretched his arms and arched his back. And for a second, Akechi swore he saw a strip of pale, pale flesh from his stomach as his shirt rolled up from the action. But it vanished when his arms were dropped to his sides again, and the detective swallowed.

Oh god, he was too warm himself now. Shit.

“I need to use your bathroom.” Akira spoke up suddenly, still looking around the room.

“Left corner.” Akechi muttered, moving towards his kitchen. Maybe he’d make tea to get his mind off of him. Yes, that sounded solid. Maybe give the other a cup too, to soothe his belly.

“I won’t be gone long.”

Akechi nodded, but glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the other move. He moved slow, but slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The boy waited for a few moments, listening intently -- for what? He didn’t know -- and exhaled when he heard the water running.

His hands rested on the countertop, and his eyes fluttered closed. He had Akira Kurusu in his apartment--in his bathroom. It felt like a dream. Only recently had they met at the Television Station, and now they were going out to eat frequently...leading up to him at his apartment. Ah, he couldn’t stop his pounding heart in his chest.

What had him so nervous now? Was it that he had never invited someone into his apartment before? His heart ached so much he could feel his pulse in his grit teeth, and he gripped his hands into his hair for a moment. Harsh breaths came out, and he growled in frustration, in confusion.

What was he to do? He was getting ahead of himself, and had no plans for this. All he could do was...still get the other’s trust. But he had gotten him here to his apartment...what else could he do from here? Sure, he could assure the boy’s destruction and give himself some pleasure along the way...but why would his heart not stop racing and why would that heat not leave his form?

He felt frightened, and he didn’t like that.

To give himself something to do, he prepared the kettle of hot water and let it simmer on the stove. Yes, that was what he had originally planned. Make him and his guest some tea. That would soothe his nerves, and soothe Akira’s likely upset stomach. The water had come to a boil, and he stared at it with a blank expression, stomach in knots when he heard the door to the bathroom open once more.

Akira looked a bit better--his face was damp with water, he noticed, and his curly hair wasn’t as untamed. He moved across the room towards Akechi’s little kitchen, tilting his head at him. Still he looked too stuffed, shuffling across the floor with a hand on the side of his stomach as to not disturb the contents too much. But he didn’t look sick anymore.

Akechi hummed at him, trying to compose himself again. He moved behind him, taking the kettle off of the burner and distributing the hot water. The preparations were easy, and he watched as Akira leaned against the countertop to watch him, gazing at him through the lenses of his glasses.

“Here.”

He nudged the cup once it was finished, and took his own. It was just store bought packets, but it would suffice. The other boy took the cup, slowly blowing on the hot water as he held it gingerly in his hands.

There was a silence between them, now, standing on either side of the counter and blowing on the drink. Akechi looked anywhere but Akira--he didn’t have a plan for what to do now, and didn’t want the other picking up on that. He swallowed a bit, running his fingers through his hair again. He wasn’t used to this, having people over and entering his little bubble…

This was still so risky, but would be worth it in the end. Gain his trust...and then destroy it.

His stomach was in strange knots, watching Akira. The way he blew so gently, held the cup so gingerly...he was so delicate.

A sharp snort and a swallow, taking a sip of the drink, only to succeed in scalding his tongue from the nearly boiling water. Grumbling, he noted how Akira lifted his head in alarm to look at him, eyes laced with concern, and he suddenly felt sick again.

Humming, he smiled back at him, ignoring the biting burn on the top of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. “Go sit on the couch. Make yourself comfortable. You are my guest, after all.”

“What, did you want to watch a movie or something?” Akira asked playfully, catching Akechi off guard. 

A movie…? He didn’t...have any movies. Rarely did he even watch television...it was more just for his own appearances if people happened to be over, or to watch the news while he worked. Either way, he lived off of his phone. The television was there just as...a method of normalcy. Most people had a television, so he deemed it necessary as well. It was all part of the act, as well.

When Akechi didn’t answer (he must’ve looked puzzled as well) Akira laughed gently, and he leaned back a bit, his stomach pushing out slightly from the movement. His face was bright, and his eyes were clear with happiness. It was infectious, causing Akechi to smile a bit in return at him. 

When he didn’t look completely sick, he was...pleasant to look at. Wide eyes, a gentle look to him...he looked friendly, open to others. How could he manage that, he thought, despite everything he knew about him? A boy cruelly abandoned by his family, and then thrust into another city after wrongfully accused of a crime...how did he still smile so earnestly…?

“Alright, alright. We’ll find something to watch. There has to be something on TV.”

A sip of the tea and he carried it over to the living area, gingerly depositing it upon a coaster. He moved with less strain, but still was careful as to not disturb his full state. Very slowly, he lowered himself down onto the couch and snatched the remote, leaning back comfortably as he began to search through the channels once the system booted up.

Akechi had realized that the other had undid his belt when he leaned back far enough, causing his cheeks to flush.

Taking but a moment to compose himself, he picked up his teacup and snatched up the box of donuts and followed the other into the living area, his feet padding lightly across the floor. Very gingerly he placed the cup down on the table next to the other’s, the box towards Akira, and sat down a bit stiffly next to Akira. His gaze followed his hand, the boy idly rubbing his swollen stomach and fixing his shirt with one hand as he flicked through the channels with the other.

He kept his hands on his knees, squeezing tightly, his breath hitching in his throat. It would be so easy now to lay back, maybe curl up on the couch next to him and rest his head on his shoulder, lean against him…

A soft noise, and he rubbed at his face again, staring straight ahead at the flickering channels of the television screen. Akira finally settled on something--a bland live action show, with what looked to me men in colorful suits and helmets, bouncing around and doing poor examples of martial arts. The logo flashed on the screen: Phoenix Ranger Featherman R. It looked almost like a kid’s show.

Raising a brow, very slowly Akechi leaned back onto the soft cushions of the couch, still very stiff and hesitant. “What...is this?”

“It’s something my friend watches.” Akira responded softly, keeping the volume low. He kept his gaze on the TV, his breathing slow and heavy. “She absolutely adores it. She has all the action figures and everything. It’s kinda cute. I always wanted to see what all the hype was about.”

Akechi leaned forward, taking the box of the donuts again. He cracked it open and looked down, counting how many were left. There was a dozen originally, and now there was six left…

Usually he hated placing food on his couch for risk of messes, but this time, he gingerly placed it down between them. To warm up Akira to the idea of eating more, he took one of them from the box, nibbling on it. The powdered sugar coated his fingers, and he blinked, taking a larger bite. It was sweet--this one filled with fruit. Strawberry flavored! Even the frosting was good, and it wasn’t so sweet that it made him sick. Now he understood why Akira was stuffing his face with them despite being as packed as a drum.

He kept his gaze upon the television now. “Help yourself. They won’t stay fresh tomorrow.” he spoke past a mouthful, licking his lips daintily. After a moment he heard a sigh and a hand brush against the box, and he was unable to hide his smile. It worked perfectly. A four course meal and a dozen donuts...it was just so easy to eat in front of a television, after all.

The team was fighting against a colorful villain now. A brightly costumed individual, spouting nonsense and theatrically swinging his hands about. Behind him was a hostage tied up with rope to the support beam of the building they were in, screaming helplessly.

The donut was consumed after a few minutes, taking his time with it. Yes...this was good. At least now he had plenty of material to write about for his blog. It did taste delicious. For once his readers were right and had good suggestions.

He allowed himself to breathe properly next to the other as they watched this program. It was easier now, without so much fear and nervousness. Maybe eating had quelled his nerves...He took a glance inside the box, and was surprised to see that it was emptied out now. Slowly he lifted his head to look back at Akira, who finished up the last bites of the donuts in a few mouthfuls.

So he had eaten everything.

Akechi slowly pressed a palm to his own stomach, groaning softly under his breath. He had eaten too much. From what he had eaten at the restaurant to now what he had consumed in the donut box, this was past his limit. He felt mildly sick--was this what Akira felt like? His breathing was slow and heavy to try to soothe himself, focusing on the television with a bit of pain.

It was now a dramatic fight scene, and he managed to snort at the silliness. It looked so incredibly fake...it didn’t even look real. Maybe that was the point? He couldn’t really tell.

They watched the rest of the television show. Akira would occasionally snort, and Akechi would comment on something ridiculous or stupid. He was...having fun? They were doing something mindless, almost lazy but...he found himself laughing occasionally--genuinely--at what Akira was saying. 

Yet when the credits began to roll, Akechi sighed softly, slowly stretching his arms over his head. He yawned briefly, flopping back against the couch to blink lazily over at his companion. 

“Mm...that was...stupid.” Akechi snickered briefly. “I don’t understand why your friend adores this show. It’s really...bad. But then again...it is in a sort of goofy way. Their outfits are...colorful, at least.”

A pause, waiting for Akira to answer, and he tilted his head curiously. Slowly he sat up a bit more to get a good look at his face, and he snorted with laughter. Oh. He hadn’t expected this one.

The boy had fallen asleep. He was out cold, his breathing even, head against the back cushion of the couch. His arms were crossed atop of his stomach, shirt having rolled up a bit from his lack of a vice grip on the hem keeping it down. His glasses were askew, pressing against his cheek and sliding down his nose, fluffy, curly hair all messy in his face.

Akechi snickered gently. Of course it was a matter of time until he fell asleep from how much he had eaten. Ah, and this show wasn’t exactly the most...enthralling he had watched. He didn’t really blame him. He could go for a nap himself..

He let the ending theme play, but immediately turned off the television when another one started to play. What was this? A damn marathon? Dear god.

Very slowly he stood, moving gracefully across the living room. The closet door was open to the linens, and he pulled out a throw blanket, yawning as he did so. It was draped across Akira’s sleeping form, and he stared at him for a moment.

How stupid was Akira to fall asleep like this. This was so incredibly risky for the other...right in the belly of the beast. But he had lost his energy after the battles upon the restaurant and the donuts, and had finally succumb to the damage done to his form. He looked so comfortable, pleasant...Akechi suddenly found himself taken over by the same stupor. There was no point in attacking him just now, anyways...no, it wouldn’t be fair.

Giving up, Akechi sighed, going back to sitting down next to him. He grabbed his laptop from the table and slowly leaned back, sipping at his cooled tea. At least now he had some free time to--

His eyes narrowed, a chill settling in his heart as he flicked to his email tab. There, sitting in the “unread” section was a message from Shido. He hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks, and now he was messaging him? Likely demanding a new hit, or to see if he had any new information about those damn Phantom Thieves--

Growling he quickly shut his laptop and placed it back on the table, crossing his arms and looking away. That didn’t need his attention right now. No--dammit. Even now, Shido had to ruin everything. All those feelings of hate, and anger washed over the pleasantries he had felt only recently, drowning them easily.

That bastard.

With the sleeping leader beside him, he didn’t care what that fool had to say. Akechi could worry about it later...not when he was having a good day. And with that, he took out his notepad, curling up on the couch as he prepared the notes for the next article on his food blog. That was something he would much rather put his attention to while he waited for Akira to wake.


End file.
